Bedazzled
by Veridia
Summary: Murata knows that what he needs was never his. But he still desires it with all his heart, because it is-he is the only thing that he has truly wanted. Onesided Shinou/Murata, Yuuri/Wolfram Yuuri/Murata


Bedazzled

Kyou Kara Maou fiction

Summary: Murata knows that what he needs was never his.

_Like gravity, like love_

_You get up after you fall…_

_~ Gravity, Poets of the Fall_

*---*

Yuuri looks over to his husband who is nestled onto the pillows, reading. Wolfram's golden hair shines meticulously in the light of the candles, forming a striking image with his background. He stares at it in surprise, then smiles faintly. His husband has always been a pretty boy.

On most occasions, he would love to tease the handsome blond brat for his unique beauty. But today, he has a more important thing to ask of him. The urge is not there.

"Wolfram?"

His husband eyes him tiredly, his lovely green eyes wearied. There is a small, non-committal nod.

"Yes, Yuuri?"

He fidgets; there is no way to do this right. Because it is wrong and he knows it. He's bound because of his promise to the black haired sage.

"I need…to ask…you something."

Marriage has made him bold. Because he knows, he has something to hold on to and fall back on. Wolfram knows this. Perhaps, he muses, what he will ask will tear his trust into shreds. It is what made him promise so recklessly to his best friend. He hates the pain that wells up.

He loves Wolfram, there is no doubt about that, he loves him more than he has loved anyone, or anything.

"Yuuri, out with it." Wofr4am's emerald eyes are impatient and curious. He steels himself and pours his heart out. He expresses himself as genuinely as he can, and awaits the castration and loud screeching that are bound to follow. But his husband does none of the feared expressions. He simply closes his eyes, lassitude bearing upon him and murmurs softly, "Yuuri, I understand. Invite him."

With a slight smile, he smothers his beloved gently and turns over to go to sleep, his book cast askew.

Yuuri gapes at him for more than a moment, then crawls up to him. "Will you be alright?"

"I know I reside first in your heart. I also know what he goes through. I have no problems, at all." There is thorough conviction in his words and Yuuri believes him. "I love you" his words are only a gentle whisper floating down to his lover, as he settles himself and wraps his body around him, easily reaching the realm of sleep.

Wolfram remains awake for a while longer, his verdant eyes dim and sympathizing. He knows the kind of pain Murata goes through daily, having faced the same first hand himself. He knows the torture, but knowing it is not comfort. He knows that Yuuri's plan will eventually hurt the sage much more than he has ever desired, and he knows that their Daikenja knows it as well. But he comprehends the desperation, because it comes as a bitter reminiscence.

He knows that Murata needs love just as much as they all do. He tries to hide it, project an aura of infinite calm, but it doesn't help. He knows that he too desires someone he could never reach. As the great sage, he got all he wanted, except the love of the one person who made all that difference. He knows that the fact has haunted the Daikenja for millennia, and is willing to do all he can to cover up the loss. Even if it means…

Because he knows that for all he has done, and the way Shinou has hurt him, there can be no forgiveness. But he is willing to try and the great sage is willing to forgive. It is a small step in amending all that Shinou has ever done to him.

He feels terrible for being his descendent only in these times. Shinou was a bastard, who never saw more than what he wanted to see. And he never wanted to see how much he hurt people who truly cared for him.

*--*

Ken shivers as he walks to the bed in the shrine, his black eyes shut and glasses forgotten in some dim corner of the room.

It is breaking. All his thinly, extremely, deeply, controlled feelings are finally pouring out in full force, and this time he cannot make himself stop them. It has been too long, and the wound is too deep... just like his love, unfathomable.

He wonders why after all this time he still loves Shinou. There was obviously no desire in the man's heart for him, and it is so evident from the times he meets his chibi spirit in the tomb, ever ready to molest him. But he knows that Shinou has always meant it in jest, and never as a lover. The verity- stings- no it does more than that. It breaks him.

He does not know what possessed him today when he was with the Maou. One instance they were quietly discussing something, and the next moment he finds himself in a liplock with the settled man. He berates his lack of self-control, but he knows the damage has been done, and it is deep. He is humiliated.

_They were discussing war strategies for the upcoming skirmish between Lanzhil and Saralegui, which may blow towards their direction. He had noticed, that there was none but them in the room. Yuuri was bent over a map, pouring over it, and reading. _

_And when he looks up at him, and asks something that he had only once heard Shinou do, "Do you think this is the right course to take?" in that voice that was strangely reminiscent of his beloved king and an expression that was so typical of him that he could not stop himself. It was as if seeing Shinou again for him, in which, Yuuri's face had morphed into that of his ruler, his most beloved, prized ruler. _

_His heart's desire. He sees Shinou in his eyes, saying those words to him, and looking like he was deeply regretting his marriage with Rufus, and he couldn't help himself. All his bottled up emotions, caged from the time when he has seen Shinou again in shin Makoku bursts and engulfs him, and he is kissing the man. _

_Only on touching him does Yuuri start to struggle, and the next moment he is face to face with the Maou, the only person with the power to rival Shinou's own. There is unmistakable anger in his tone when he demands an explanation for his unwarranted act, but seeing the rise of first tears in his black, fathomless eyes, he understands his desire. _

_There has been no coaxing, and he has spilled all. All he knows about the king, his soul and his heart and the way Shinou had finally broken him. It is 4ooo years of desperation and misery pouring out at once, and the Maou has listened to it all, and behind his eyes, he has seen Yuuri witness it as well, and the sympathy in their eyes is enough to shred him to strips._

_He hasn't wanted sympathy, or comfort. He is sure that he can handle it on his own, when the Maou or Yuuri- he cannot tell which- in his state avows softly "You love him. No years and infinite wisdom is enough to deal with the pain that is caused when the one you love rejects you and your heart is finally broken."_

_There is nothing he can say then- because he cannot deny the truth in his words, and he cannot admit the truth to his own self. It is just a deluded love he had been carrying for so long that it has become a second nature, a part of his soul that he cherishes most of all. It bleeds him inside._

_The Maou continues. "I know I cannot replace him. But allow me to mend some part of his damage in your soul- caused by his obliviousness, his marriage, his rejection to your soul. Pretend that I am him and allow me to heal you, even if it is a tiny bit that none may understand. A tiny bit that you can feel and take comfort in until a time comes when you can either move on, or he finally gets the will to accept you."_

_He gives in that moment., because his desire is at his limits. He can no longer bring himself to think rationally, or stand sanely. He clung to him, searching for the warm comfort that he longed for during the time of Shinou's reign. _

_The Maou gently untangles him. "Let me ask wolfram for what he says. Because to me, even though you are treasured, he is my soul." _

_It is a eerie reminder of the meaning Shinou holds to his own soul, and he lets go. He will not let himself berate this decision made in selfishness. He has lived all his life selflessly, just for once; he desires to be selfish._

Ken looks up at the sky. It is the right decision. He will not take offence if Wolfram calls it selfish- it is. He has no qualms either on the fact that it would be forbidden, because it already is. Wolfram's assent, essential though it is, makes little impact on him, because just the thought of Yuuri's promise is enough.

The tears that slip are unseen.

*--*

He is reasonably shocked when late into the night after a talk with Gwendal; Yuuri pulls him over to his room, his actions coy.

He tries to resist, but Yuuri's grip is hard, and unforgiving, and bruises the lines on his skin. He is dragged to the sacred confinements of their bedchamber, and is left standing listlessly as Yuuri speedily undresses to put on his nightclothes.

He is shocked further when Yuuri pats the bed next to him, drawing him close to his body, and motioning him to sit. Then, he snuggles him.

In all definitions, it feels wrong- Yuuri is married, and has such a desirable husband, whereas he doesn't compare. He struggles, lashes, but is not let gone off, when all activity stills and Wolfram enters the room, his hands holding a creamy white cup brimming over with milk.

He awaits the screams. But instead, Wolfram smiles sadly, and places the cup on the table and walks up to him. "Yuuri… let him go."

There is such melancholy in his voice that he cannot make himself bolt, and such raw understanding that he feels violated. He looks up at the man, only to see him smile, and move closer- "You are allowed. I know about it, and this is…my payment , my return for doing all that you've done, for the sake of a man who has done nothing but cause you pain. If you see your king in Yuuri's eyes, go ahead, touch him this one night."

He picks up the cup, and walks to the couch, making himself comfortable there, his words packed with honesty and trust. "I am fine with it. I have no qualms on what I give up, or any hesitations on what maybe lost from me."

He picks up a book, in order to make himself blind to the rest of the world, and starts reading.

Ken has never felt guiltier in his life- or more humbled, by the sheer extent of his love and willingness, to fulfill his self-centered yearning. He finds himself on the verge of giving up and leaving, miserable at the fact that he is separating two who care for each other so deeply, that it may hurt, but Yuuri gives him no time to dwell on the matter, bringing him close and kissing him.

"Imagine me to be your king, your love. I shall be all you aspire this one night…my sage…"

At those words, he is thrown back, into a memory, that he has held so close to his heart, of himself and his king, of all that love he has ever felt in this life and those past, and he loses himself.

Yuuri is no longer Yuuri, and the room is no longer the same that he once knows, instead, morphing into one that lives from the time of the original king. Yuuri's' hair is no longer black, and his eyes are longer obsidian, and he finally finds an outlet for all the emotion he has kept bottled inside for such a life time. He is finally allowed to touch- touch the one person who can bring him as close as possible to the one person he has worshipped above life.

He finally gets to hold the one he has longed for- longed to spend just one, one night with. Even if it is his fabrication, even if it is Yuuri. He finds himself reaching out, out and out, to finally touch the Original king, his soul, and finds him in his hands. His dream is fulfilled.

Dimly, he thinks, before rationale is driven away from his thoughts, he never did anything so miraculous to deserve such friends.

*--*

He lies there, panting from his exertion, and from all the thoughts that had invaded his brain ever since the tryst began – and he notices Wolfram's leafy eyes watching them intently, as they did throughout the ordeal. Neither accusing, nor insulted, he seems to be contented with what has transpired, and he feels the depths of his heart warm with the unconditional trust in his love. Yuuri lies on the bed, spent, his eyes affectionate and understanding, at ease with the position he assumed for himself. Ken moves quietly, his nether regions hurting, and he knows that Yuuri feels the same. Wolfram moves past him, and moves to cradle his husband, unfazed and tranquil. He shows no emotion that may betray that his husband just lay in bed with another man, at his own acquiescence, and holds him close, treating him as gently as he does, and asks about his well being.

The moment he hears Wolfram's warm words towards him and friendly comments to his own self, and eyes Yuuri's unending love towards his spouse and partner- something in his heart breaks. He feels the pain, the loss, and the feeling of being an outsider intruding on a hallowed relationship that should have been kept under wraps but he forced it out.

He has never felt this selfish, or this more of a sinner. Yuuri's' eyes teem with undying love and affection, even towards him, who made him forego the oath he made in front of his eyes- to keep himself chaste for his lover. Wolframs' eyes have the same care that he always has deep within himself, and he feels lonelier than he ever has. He knows he tried to sully something he has no right to destroy, and the realization kills him inside.

He gets up, even less of a man than he was before, now bearing the burden of an even greater sin, and starts to dress. Once he is done, and proceeds to leave the room, Yuuri looks straight, deep into his eyes, as tepid and loving as ever, "Ken, I'll meet you tomorrow." There is no hostility or indictment in his gaze, and Ken feels purged. Wolfram's eyes, same as ever, promise him the same thing, though there is a threat of burning him if he finds Yuuri hurt in any fashion. He laughs, and the action brings tears to his eyes.

"Good night, Your Majesty, Your Highness." He bows himself out of the room, and let goes.

*--*

He hates himself.

He hates Shinou even more, even though he knows that the reason is void and pointless. It is his fault. It was always his.

Curled on his bed, he flings his glasses away somewhere, ashamed of himself. He has never been so loved, and yet so deeply punished. Selfishness never brings rewards.

Love punishes more than violence does, and it purifies the one punished. He has always read this, heard Shinou extol its power, but never believed it. He does now. He always will, from this moment.

Tears drip from his eyes. The gaping hole in his chest has grown wider, and not smaller, and he knows it will never shorten until he reaches the twilight zone where the dead meet the world of the living and he passes on, only leaving behind his existence as a memory.

He knows that Shinou was never destined to be his. Never.

He belonged to Rufus, and all he could ever do was see him from a distance after his nuptials. It had killed him inside to watch the ceremony- notwithstanding the fact that Shinou had asked him to conduct it. There was no way in which he could refuse, so he ploughed ahead and accepted. The misery of the day still rings clearly in his soul, causing him unimaginable grief.

And he has now gone ahead and acted even more selfish than he ever pictured himself to be. But he knows he cannot blame anyone but himself- it was he who put himself in such predicament.

Tears streak out further, and deeper.

All he had ever wanted was to touch him. and that was the only thing he had been denied. He had been all that Shinou ever wanted, but he was never noticed. He was only considered as a friend.

And Shinou picked Rufus over him, leaving him nothing but an endless love, and a broken heart to find comfort in.

In that moment when Rufus had pulled Shinou away from his hands, he hadn't believed that he had lost. But now, faced with wisdom of ages and adversity of time, he gave into Lawrence's remark. Rufus had won, and had Shinou's heart as her prize. It made little sense in admitting it now, but the admission brought him serenity and peace that had been lacking from a lifetime. He had given up on Shinou.

That didn't mean that it was no less painful.

He has long conceded to the fact that he loves his king to death, or even beyond. But…

For the time, it hurt. Worse than anything else.

"Rufus, I apologize. You had his heart, whereas all I had was his admiration. The two could never compare. You had what I yearned for and still do, only to see you pull it away from my eyes for a second time."

His voice breaks.

"All I ever wanted was to touch him- and spend just one night with him. But he was never truly mine to even begin with."

*--*

_Sometimes, giving up does not mean that you are weak. It means that you are strong enough to let go. _


End file.
